


The Queen’s Gambit (Accepted)

by benfic



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Angst, Gen, u know what they say if u want something done !!!, why didn't they have a song together...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 18:20:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15055016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benfic/pseuds/benfic
Summary: Trina visits Whizzer post-Holding to the Ground. They play a game together. Yes, the title can be a reference to I’m Breaking Down if you’d like it to.





	The Queen’s Gambit (Accepted)

**Author's Note:**

> (Goes with [figure drawing]() but doesn't need that fic to make sense, really.)

“If you don’t have roses this time you can forget about feeling my ass,” Whizzer says, arm slung over his face. He and Marvin mutually agreed on set sleeping hours so Marvin would stop dropping in right when he was starting to fall asleep, and see? Just what he--

 

“Um,” says Trina’s voice. Whizzer sits up.

 

“Oh,” he says. “Uh, sorry, Trina.”

 

“It’s alright. I know I’m not your... usual visitor.” She moves, in that floaty way of hers, across the room to the side of his bed, where the visitor’s chair sits. She doesn’t take the seat, though, hovering there and looking at Whizzer’s collection: a deck of cards, three vases of flowers, two bags of trail mix, a ceramic mouse. He can’t imagine how it appears to her.

 

“Sit down,” he says, and she does, sort of dropping her purse in her lap and her feet on her floor and her hand on the little table with the chessboard on it. Sensing an opportunity, Whizzer adds, “Do you play?”

 

“Only with Jason,” she says, but she doesn’t look away from the board. Whizzer considers that she might not want to look in his direction, which is fine with him. He’s never gone so long without looking at his reflection. Leaning forward, he moves a white pawn.

 

“Go ahead,” he says, gesturing. Her gaze flickers towards him and then back to the board, and then her hands shifts out and mirrors his move.

 

“I don’t know how to play this game,” she says, sounding hollow and confused. Whizzer moves another of his pawns and says nothing. “Oh. And now that one’s in danger.”

 

“You can...” Whizzer fiddles with his sleeve, not really knowing how to communicate with her. He’s surprised anyone this fragile and middle-class ended up with Marvin, no matter how it ended. “Do you want help?”

 

Trina seems to collapse into herself; it takes Whizzer a moment to realize she’s sobbing. He reaches out a hand, but can’t tell if she wants it and changes his move at the last minute to handing her a tissue. He is thinking of telling Marvin to bring him another box, but he’s not sure how that would be construed.

 

“Thank you,” Trina sniffles. She wipes at herself, not doing very much good, and then slumps again. “I am so, so sorry.”

 

“No, listen--” Whizzer doesn’t like feelings. Not at the best of times, and especially not with virtual strangers; he puts a hand to his neck and leans back slightly. “It’s not your fault. You have nothing to apologize for.”

 

He supposes he shouldn’t see Trina as a stranger at this juncture, but isn’t sure what else to call her.

 

“If I had-- If I hadn’t--” she wrings her hands, and Whizzer shrugs.

 

“We could have done anything differently,” he says. “But we didn’t.” He pauses, then adds, “your pawn is still there.”

 

Trina snorts something about ‘ _ men’,  _ then eats one of Whizzer’s pawns with her own. 

 

“You know I never wanted any of this,” she begins, folding her hands in her lap. Whizzer notices suddenly that she has a colorful handkerchief wound around two of her fingers. He pulls a knight out, and she sighs. “I never thought-- I thought if I just let him do what he wanted--”

 

“You would never have been happy. Go ahead.”

 

She copies his motion with the knight quickly, then returns her hands to her lap.

 

“I’ve never hated you,” she says, and he’s so surprised he forgets to keep his eyes on the board. He realizes there are tears in hers, and looks away again, clenching his jaw. “I never wanted this for you.”

 

“I didn’t... Trina, don’t apologize to me,” he says, and she takes a deep breath, shaking her head. “No, c’mon.” He forces a smile. “Homewreckers get what they deserve, right?”

 

“This isn’t what you deserve and you know it.” She gestures helplessly at the board. “Keep going.”

 

Whizzer is only too happy to return to the game. They move pawns one after the other, cluttering the board, eating each other up until they’ve lost three each and Whizzer takes a bishop and chucks it right into the center of the board, then castles. Trina blinks in surprise.

 

“Been a while since I’ve gotten this far,” Whizzer says. “You’re not so bad.”

 

“I have no  _ idea  _ what I’m doing,” she says in that soft of voice of hers, and she moves another pawn.

 

“This isn’t your fault,” Whizzer says, moving a pawn of his own.

 

“Oh, I know that,” she says, feeling around the board. She settles on a knight, eventually, hovering slightly before she can decide on a place to drop him. Whizzer, for his part, gets the feeling she doesn’t know that, not at all. He moves his own knight, and Trina shoves a bishop over one space. “Let’s get this over with,” she says, with sudden ferocity.

 

“If you don’t want to play--”

 

“It’s fine,” Trina says. She smiles weakly, and laughs even more weakly. “More practice for Jason.”

 

She’s only doing this for him.

 

“If you don’t want to,” he repeats, and she shakes her head, putting a hand up to her face.

 

“I never know how to talk to  _ any  _ of you,” she says, and her voice breaks. “I never know how to tell you. I don’t know how you talk to each other; I can barely--”

 

“We don’t,” Whizzer responds, kicking his queen forward. “It’s not you.”

 

Trina snorts derisively, mopping at herself with her handkerchief. She pulls open the drawer on Whizzer’s bedside table and takes a tissue from there, too; she pretends not to notice the colorful magazines, but Whizzer sees her face flush.

 

“Sorry,” he says, and she blows her nose.

 

“I can’t blame you,” she says. “You’re all men.” Then she captures his pawn. Whizzer makes an attempt to get one of his rooks into play, and Trina covers her mouth with her hand again, this time in thought.

 

“You can castle,” Whizzer says softly.

 

“I’m holding the center,” she realizes. Whizzer looks, then looks back at her. She sighs; “Jason is always telling me to hold the center. I don’t know  _ what  _ I’m doing.” And then she castles anyway, which Whizzer thinks is admirable.

 

“You go through the most emotions I’ve ever seen anyone handle, ever,” he says, watching her move a pawn. He captures a different one. “In five minutes.”

 

“I haven’t been happy yet,” she points out, which Whizzer thinks might be a gambit to make him let her win. She captures one of his pawns, and he takes her pawn with his knight.

 

“I’m losing so many pieces,” she mumbles, looking at the edge of the board, which has become a veritable graveyard. “And I still haven’t used those...” She taps one.

 

“Rooks,” Whizzer supplies helpfully.  _ See,  _ he wants to tell Marvin.  _ I’m not the worst in the world.  _ Then he feels bad just for thinking it. 

 

“It’s alright,” Trina says, brushing some invisible dust off the one on the left. “They’re holding down the board.”

 

“Hm,” Whizzer says, which is code for  _ I can never understand what you’re saying, and I don’t think Marvin ever did, either-- which isn’t to say that he’s excused, but I still can’t believe you ever lived with each other. And I still don’t understand who thought it was a good idea, or why either of you kept it up for so long. I guess I’ll never understand, now. _

 

Trina captures his knight with her own, and he moves his queen out of her path. She scratches her head, then  _ tsk _ s and moves her own queen forward.  _ Not going to get away that easily. _

 

It’s true-- Whizzer can’t see an outcome that doesn’t include his queen getting swallowed. He lets her take Trina’s knight, then, so he can at least get that out of the way before she uses her queen to capture his.

 

“Hm,” she says, sounding a little more pleased with herself.

 

“Yeah, that’s the most important piece on the board,” he says, which Marvin would likely agree with. Whizzer doesn’t have a strong preference, outside of Marvin being wrong.

 

The game disintegrates somewhat from there: Trina uncastles herself partially by accident, Whizzer gives his bishop a clever move, Trina’s king becomes trapped between knight and rook. She sighs and rubs at her eyes.

 

“Good job,” she says, and then, “I should go.”

 

“You didn’t let me win, did you?” Whizzer asks, though he knows the answer. He can recognize calculated game-throwing from Marvin. And Jason now, too. He’s not sure Trina has the capacity to lose on purpose.

 

Trina merely sighs and replaces her purse in her hands. She fixes her hair quickly as she stands; Whizzer watches her tuck everything in and fluff everything up. She takes a deep breath and straightens herself out.

 

“You look good,” Whizzer says.

 

“I had better,” she mutters,  smoothing down her skirt. “Mendel comes home in the next hour; I need to--”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Whizzer says, and she turns sharply. “I’m serious. Don’t worry about it.” She stares at him. “Take it from someone who’s actively dying: don’t waste your life worrying.”

 

He wishes he could do anything for her. Anything at all.

 

“Easy for you to say,” Trina says, and for the first time Whizzer catches the ghost of a smile. It makes him feel better.

 

“That’s why I’m saying it. Now go home and eat a huge bar of chocolate and have sex and go to sleep. And be happy.”

 

“Doctor’s orders,” Trina teases. Whizzer likes that-- Trina teasing. He lets himself grin, anyway, and she rifles through her bag. “I almost forgot-- I did bring you something.”

 

“Oh, you shouldn’t have--”

 

“No. No, I-- I asked  _ Marvin,  _ of all people, and he--” she takes a hand out of her bag to wave it illustratively, “--but I got the gist.” She laughs a little awkwardly and starts pulling things out.

 

Dry shampoo. Hand lotion. Hair gel. Two combs. A hairbrush. Pins, bands, and (of all things) a blue barrette. A mini hair dryer. Nail files. Skin cream.

 

“Wow, you  _ really  _ shouldn’t have,” Whizzer says, watching it all pile up on his bedside table. “And how did you fit all that in your--”

 

“I needed to,” Trina says simply. “And I hope you-- enjoy it.” She quirks an odd sort of smile. “I never use these sorts of things.”

 

“Combs?” Whizzer asks, and Trina rolls her eyes almost exactly like Marvin. Whizzer finds he doesn’t mind it. “Good night, Trina.”

 

“Good night, Whizzer.” Trina moves to leave, then stops. “If you need anything--”

 

“More tissues,” Whizzer says, immediately. “People keep crying in here, for some reason.”

 

They grin half-heartedly at each other, and Trina turns away again. At the door, she pauses again, and Whizzer wonders if she’ll be here all night. He’s definitely not going to be prepared if she decides to make a habit of falling in love with gay men.

 

“Don’t give up hope,” she says. “It might-- you could--” He shakes his head, and she stumbles, almost reaching out to him.  _ “Please,”  _ she says, desperation flaring in her eyes. “For Jason. He’ll be back soon. He wanted to come today--”

 

“Got it; don’t die without Jason present. Go home, Trina.” 

 

Her shoulders fall, but she smiles.

 

“Good night, Whizzer.”

 

The door clicks shut behind her.

**Author's Note:**

> The chess game is possible to recreate (despite the vagueness of some of the moves) and is begun with the eponymous opening.
> 
> (...and now feel free to go read [figure drawing]()! Or [Three Dads](), which features a healthy, happy Dad Whizzer!)


End file.
